Author's Notes: I decided to upload the oneshots in my infinite universes here on fanfiction./net just to see how it will fare. Mostly, these uploads will be the longer oneshots like this baby monster (3,566 words). Anyway, a background: Sakura DID NOT time travel into this timeline, she's born here and well, you could see how this goes for poor Tobirama and his duty-filled heart.
1
With the eternal burning fire of Amaterasu raging behind and around him, the heir of the Senju clan zigs and zags, flips and dodges and with Raijin in hand Tobirama starts the cycle of lightning and hearts.
It is the one thing that will haunt him forever.
-10
When his father arranges his betrothal, Tobirama accepts with all the regality of a battle-harden sixteen year-old, which is to say, he sulks in his finest robes all wiry and face set in stone.
He is not the first-born son, so he doesn't get a princess from the faraway lands. No red-haired brides with dowry as expensive as several hectares of farming lands. No blood pacts on tops of mountain and no senseless killing of herds of cows and horses to prove his worth.
He's not envious, this is just another means to an end.
Butsuma is in front of him in his own finery, an old man holding on to power. If he had not known his father in their home, in the battlefield, he would have assumed that everything was fine but the drums outside remind him of the drums of war and the fire dancing of the fire of the enemy – well.
He knows the feeling all too well. Raised and reared in the blood, legs may carry him far but the battlefield never leaves a warrior.
But the drums sing not the hymn of war but a quicker, livelier beat with deep voices of dark men with pale hair from the far seas and the shadows of fire dance not with the glint of forged steel but with the padding of bare feet against earth.
So Tobirama steps outside and sits at the elevated chair his brother built as if waiting for an ambush. The people from the far seas are a festive bunch and his brother fits right in. Chuckling and clumsily indulging the young boys and girls in unfamiliar clothes and dances.
The Haruno clan is a seafaring clan, rarely ever on land, they rely on the sea for everything. However, what makes them a valuable would-be ally is their healing practices. Glowing green hands, salves and poultices made from roots and trees – yes, a valuable ally and fitting for the second son, Butsuma said.
In exchange for land and protection, the Haruno patriarch offers his infamous daughter. With beauty almost up to par with the goddesses, whisper follow her like wisps of smoke every time their clan drop their anchors.
Tobirama was prepared for the pink hair – and isn't that odd, a washed-out red for the second-best – the green eyes and the peach skin but, but.
She steps out of the tent, all smiles and ringing for her clansmen and eyes trained on him, and she dances and he is gone.
-9
His bride-to-be is five seasons younger than him, with wrists and ankles tinkling with shells and hair adorned with layers upon layers of unmovable flower crowns. He remembers the flowers with odd clarity, once upon a time, his mother planted similar ones in a garden he barely recognizes in his memories.
And at that moment, as she dances around the fire, all wanderer feet and lithe grace, dressed and loved by the sea with a crown of flowers from their land, he understands.
She is vowing to try.
Tobirama wants too as well – it is logical, to be at least companions with the person you will spend your days and nights with and he refuses to have the same marriage as his father did with his mother- but the sand beneath his feet is unsteady and he is sinking, sinking and still simmering in the unfairness of choice stolen from him.
Instead, he watches her flit around the bonfire the cracking sounds of the burning wood almost overpowered by the steady beat of the drums.
-8
Things are not-so-easy for Tobirama.
It seems all the charm and warmth have been exhausted on his older brother and skipped him for he fails to approach his bride-to-be on the night of their betrothal.
The battles have quieted down and Butsuma allows his second son to stay at the Haruno settlement by the shores of the Land of Water. This is requested by the clan head in order to let his daughter decide if she wants to keep her young husband-to-be.
Tobirama does not envy his brother but he envies this, this concept of a choice, regardless of the fact that it may put him to a disadvantage. And so, he takes a small house facing the sea and watches for three mornings as his bride-to-be pushes colorful and strong boats out to the sea while the sky is dark and comes back with hauls of fresh fish as dawn breaks.
Perhaps he should feel shame in the way he watches her strong arms pull at the net filled with flopping fish or in the way he observes the strength in her shoulders as she carries over the baskets of fish to the shore, sometimes even accompanied by an errant child or two.
On the fifth morning, he approaches her. Unburdened by his finery and weapons, he stands before her with bare feet and arms. His feet caressed by the quiet waters of the sea. Sakura smiles, tendrils of her hair escaping her bun and the soft glow of the morning reflected in her eyes.
"I was wondering when you'll come over, Tobirama-sama."'
Tobirama almost shrugs but instead nods at her latest haul, "That's a lot of fish you've got there." He feels foolish at such a bland statement but it makes her laugh and his red eyes warm at the image.
He thinks he's imagining it, the light blush that creeps up the apples of her cheeks, but then she smiles all bashful and shy, "Hashirama-sama said you liked fish."
Oh.
-7
Thus, a courtship begins.
He learns his bride-to-be's life and heritage with the determination of a scholar. He learns of the stories of the seas and his skin turns lobster red at the heat of the sun. And in turn, he teaches her the ways of the land, how to root oneself on something that is both yielding and stable.
When Tobirama learned the hundred different kinds of fish and clams and ways to prepare them, Sakura learned the hundred different types of seeds and how to toil the land. When Tobirama learned the different songs of her people, he shares with her the songs of his mother.
He also discovers the hundred different shades of Sakura's eyes and the one shade that matches her chakra when she heals.
He spends his seventeen-eighteen birthdays with her, learning how to build a life.
Today, they are in a boat when Sakura looks at him with intensity that if he were a lesser man would've made him squirmed. But Tobirama is a Senju still even when his hands are holding a fishing pole instead of a sword, so he merely quirks an eyebrow at his betrothed and waits for her to speak.
She is now sixteen, at the cusp of seventeen and soon they will be married and she is looking at him with green, green eyes. "Do you not desire me?", she asks and Tobirama's ears burn at the question. She told him weeks ago how uptight land dwellers are in comparison to her clan, and is everyone as tense as you are, Tobirama-sama? And perhaps that has been leading up to this.
When he first came to their shores, she is fifteen and made up of harsh lines and barely there curves. But she is now seventeen, a woman in the eyes of society and in every man in the settlement. He is not deaf as to not hear the silence that follows his bride-to-be every time she emerges from the ocean, or every time she dances among the embers with her twinkling eyes and tinkling bracelets.
"Do you think I am blind?" Tobirama asks, feeling a slight tug at the end of his pole's line. It is a big catch and he waits patiently.
"What?" Sakura blinks, caught off guard and she looks beautiful underneath the glow of the moon. "Of course not."
The tugging becomes insistent and Tobirama tugs back, teasing. His pulls are steady enough as to not scare the fish away, like a game where they both know who emerges victorious.
He slides his red eyes to his bride-to-be, delicate ankles and peach skin, and eyes waiting for an answer. There is a fire building inside him, a fire born at the first night he saw her. Slowly, he reaches out to her, pulls her to his side of the boat.
And when he kisses her, his sea-nymph, he feels the fish tugs strongly at his line and hears its snap echo across the sea.
-6
But of course, nothing ever lasts for the second-born son.
Butsuma roars at the mountain of a man that is Homura, all rage of the deep forests and endless terrain. But Homura is the son of the sea and as vast as the forests and mountains are, the ocean is ageless and limitless and he stares at the Senju leader like the ocean unbothered by the wiles of the land.
"We are not warmongers, Butsuma-sama. And I refuse to let my clansmen fight your war."
-5
The engagement is brutally broken with his father's anger at the pacifist way of the nomads, and he all but spits on their bare feet as the scroll arrive for Tobirama's recall back to the front lines and to his family.
He reads the scroll with resignation etched in his bones and tucks it back into his hakama and prepares to leave the place he called home for more than ten seasons. As he seals his belongings into storage scrolls, Sakura pads into his house.
Quiet, she regards him as he uproots his life once again. He is taking only the things he came with and there's something painful twinging just below her breast as she sees him pass over the fishing pole she made for him when he turned seventeen.
Sakura knows it is useless to ask if he could stay so instead, she steps into his space, lips against his shoulder and asks, "Will you remember me?"
(He wishes he could've said this:
"When my brother ascends as heir," Tobirama starts and curves around her skin to skin, "and we win the war, I'll come back marry you."
And we can fish and toil land together, and have children and-
"I'll marry you."
Tobirama repeats this with a silent ferocity as if he could make it true by his will alone.)
But instead, he leaves her in the dead of the night, disgraced, with his clansmen and never looks back.
-4
The war takes away years and years, brother after brother and Tobirama recites the features of his wayward bride at night lest he forgets them. Pink hair, like the sakura blooms his brother fails to grow. Peach skin that never quite burns or tans. Green eyes. Green eyes.
It is almost a decade after he left the settlement when the news comes from the shores to the inner lands, from the mouth of his clansman.
His cousin speaks of new trade routes, new possible enemies, allies and, a massacre, a massacre, and no survivors.
(And if Tobirama refuses to weep, Hashirama knows better.)
Peace comes too late.
-3
It only takes months after the news for peace to finally take its final shape.
Talks between the Senju and the Uchiha have been peaceful, as peaceful as two rival clans can get. After much negotiation, the Uchiha clan has finally agreed to the terms of the treaty, high and mighty they may be but their numbers are dwindling as fast as the Senju's are.
The treaty is signed on top of the mountains of the Land of Fire and he could see the glittering seas of the border of the Land of Water. Still, Tobirama stays close to Hashirama, always a half-step away, ready to defend and fight as Uchiha Madara grasps his brother's hand with a firm shake.
On a spring day, Konohagakure is born.
-2
There's a rumor about the matriarch of the Uchiha clan.
Of course there are rumors, in a fledgling village of patriarchal clans, the Uchiha stands out. A matriarchal clan as one of the most powerful clans in the village is an unspoken threat to the councils of men. However, the Uchiha have been quiet, almost secretive.
All clans have their secrets, of course but it itches that nobody knows who the matriarch of the Uchiha clan is. Wife to both heirs of the clan, she rarely steps out of the compound and have never attended functions where she's invited.
Many has passed it off as part of their eccentricities – the Aburame are living nests for the bugs, so really, who's to define what's strange?- but not Tobirama, of course.
It is barely morning when he steps out, hoping to get to the market for the freshest produce. One of the disadvantages of their village still, is the lack of farming lands and grazes. They have to rely on merchants bringing in their goods every morning from the fringes of Konoha. However, with the amount of merchants coming in, it seems the news of peace is more of an aphrodisiac than any promised infrastructure.
Fruits, vegetables and pastries are now commonplace but still, this far out inland, good fresh fish is a rare commodity.
The market that sprung is near the quarters of most of his clansmen, and he hears them whisper in awe about a beautiful Uchiha woman up and early walking around the market place.
Tobirama is not blind ("Do you think I'm blind?") as to not know that the Uchiha men and women are an attractive stock. However, he and his clansmen have been exposed to them through blood and guts for years that this reaction should by now be unfounded.
He decides to see what the fuss is about and detours back where the whispers are the most quiet. There, in between two young boys is an Uchiha woman. One that he never saw before or catalogued before.
She is picking out fresh fish from the stall, softly turning over the catch and inquiring this and that with the owner. When he stops a few feet away from her, surveying the paltry offers of tuna, she turns to him, "Lovely morning, Senju-sama."
Tobirama thinks he imagines it, the familiarity of the voice and the slight waver in her greeting, instead he nods, "Lovely morning, Uchiha-sama."
-1
The decision creates outrage in the Uchiha clan and so, it is not surprising that she comes.
She comes in the finest robes of the Uchiha that it would be impossible to miss who this woman was. With Izuna following close behind, her requested audience with the Hokage and his council waits in baited breath for the first glimpse of the elusive matriarch.
Ink black hair, pale skin and sooty lashes, the Uchiha Matriarch is everything everyone ever imagined but-
"Drop the genjutsu." Tobirama says, hand on the hilt of his weapon, legs tense and ready to jump down their elevated seats. This court-arena, a witness of judgement.
He thinks he sees her hand shiver under all the layers of her silk but then Izuna grasps her hand, body lithe and eyes flickering red. A moment of understanding passes between them and there's a waver of chakra around the area and there she was.
After more than a decade, of nights cursing the death god, all the things that never had the chance to happen, there she was. Alive, but she might as well be dead with the clan crest on her back.
Her green eyes flicks past him, all emerald and no sea foam, hard as gems and glinting with resolve.
The council whispers with none of their shinobi quiet. It's unheard of for a clan as large as the Uchiha to marry outside of their family and for the heirs to marry an outsider? Scandalous. Blasphemous even. Who is this girl of pastels and greens?
"I am here to argue for the case of my husband, the patriarch of the Uchiha clan and the equality of treatment in this fledgling village."
In a fit of anger, Madara had fought with the Shodaime and thus banished outside the village. This is not the warring era anymore, this move seems to say. We will not tolerate this disrespect, it adds.
Hashirama recovers with all the magnanimity he could salvage and looks down on the regal woman who stands as if she's six feet tall. He repeats what the council has spoken to his ear, "Your husband is a danger to the village. Until he calms down and can be spoken with levelly he must remain outside the border."
Izuna bristles but it's the matriarch that speaks. "Like a dog (the Inuzuka bare their teeth) chained to the deep bowels of mountains? Surely there is a better way to treat your dearest friend, Senju-sama."
Everyone, the newly allied Inuzuka, their Aburame cousins and the noble clans of the Nara, Yamanaka and Akimichi, turns to the leader of this unstable village. A moment of truth for the first kage.
"You must understand, Uchiha-sama, that there are precautions needed to be done—"
"For or against the Uchiha clan?" Sakura chuckles dark and not at all amused, "You have not been subtle."
She turns to the room, gestures regally with her sleeves. "None of you have. What slight has my clan done-"
"You are not an Uchiha—" Hashirama starts, slips, tries to salvage and save this woman remembering still the slip of the girl his brother left behind all those years ago.
(He could save this girl, though she is Uchiha bound she is not Uchiha blood and people can forgive this when they commit the unforgivable.)
Sakura's eyes glint dangerously and again, she raises her hand, pale and calloused and the room takes a sharp breath.
Tobirama sees Izuna straighten with pride, a husband and brother all the same.
"I have broken bread with them. Laid and dined with them. Fought and bled the same hue. I have boiled the seas of Kiri with the heat of our fires. Loved and bore the future heirs of this great clan. I am the 25th matriarch of the Uchiha clan. And you forget your place Sho-dai-me."
And with blazing green eyes, she looks at the Senju. Steel lining her back, the elevated court seems non-existent as she meets their eyes.
"We are the fire from which you create your shadows."
(-1)
"They took her. They killed the Haruno clan and took her." Tobirama grits out, pacing like a leopard in his brother's office. Hashirama looks at his brother with trepidation. It has been years and his brother has been in love for far longer.
"Brother, you know that's not true." It is proven that it was ninja from newly formed Kiri that took out the nomad clan, a bad case of territorial dispute. An unfortunate casualty to the changing world.
Hashirama fears this change overcoming his brother. He is fizzling with cracking fissures of lightning, and rage, rage as deep as the oceans he abandoned.
(-1)
Of course, there is only one way this would end – in fire. Always in fire.
The newly-built houses of the Uchiha compound are burning and shadows are dancing and jumping out of the newly-built walls. Instructing his clansmen and their allies to put out the fire and secure the civillians, the Senju brothers begins to catch up to their equals in battle.
Surely, they are going to free their patriarch and then it will be a bloodbath. So, Hashirama, swallowing his bitterness, calls on the roots of the trees and cracks open the earth, clearing the path dozens of body at a time. The forest is on fire and Tobirama zooms past, his Raijin soaked with blood.
This is what the cost of peace is.
His blood is singing in his veins as he finally sights the familiar back of Uchiha Izuna at the wide river bordering the Land of Sound, where Madara is held.
However, the battle song of his blood comes to a halt because she is there too. Pink hair sheared short, in battle stance in front of her children, fists and arms coated in blue – ready to fight and ready to die.
And fight they did.
From the distance he hears Madara summon the Kyuubi, the world is coated in red and Tobirama's heart is breaking.
0
Izuna is his equal in the field and he is fast but Tobirama has developed Shushin so he is faster but, but –
Where there was black and sharingan red and ink fire, there is now pink and green and blood red.
Someone is screaming – everyone is screaming, and Tobirama is frozen his arms locked against his ribs as Sakura – Sakura – pulls him closer, his Raijin deeper– a mockery of the embrace he's locked in his hearts of hearts – and forms hand signs behind his back.
Through blood and tears, she is screaming, "The children, my children -please"
And then there's nothing.
End Notes: In Tobirama's character, I wanted to convey his sense of duty battling with his desire and love, with the latter not winning. It's just that as a second son, he is bound and he doesn't know any other way.